I don’t think I actually have the inherent resting Bitch Face that some of my sisters posses, complaining with their funny camaraderie on Facebook or Twitter, Buzzfeed and the like. I think I’m just flat out grumpy. Call it a Bitch Vibe. I’ll be walking the long distance to a hair appointment one neighborhood away, deep in my own thoughts, when I’m suddenly confronted with an older man coming my way (always the friendly go-lucky middle-aged man) pleading “Smile!” He looks disappointed in me. He seems desperate to change my mood.
What must I be thinking about that shapes the Fake Bitch Face? All of the bullshit men in my life and their inevitable drama that I sit down and write about when I get home? All of the real time bullshit that I’m faced with on those 2 mile walks when I see grown ass adult males riding their bicycles on the sidewalk and throwing pathetic comments my way right before I yell “BIKES ARE FOR THE STREET” or the pedestrians who ask me to marry them or give me Whale Eye or almost walk straight into me because they are so zeroed in on my tits their course of direction lines up towards my body? Maybe I’m ruminating about my own behavior that pushes the men I date or fuck or even interact with into their sorry hurtful moves. Or the way that I hold myself, face aside, when I’m walking down that sidewalk, every day, to and from any destination, that incites such immature behavior from each male passerby. Something my ex boyfriend used to call my curse. Maybe I’m thinking about all of it. Maybe I’m trying to line it up and sort it out. Maybe I’m always so anxious to figure out why everyone, including myself, is such a fucking disaster and totally incompetent at ACTING NORMAL that my face tightens, my eyes squint, my mouth turns down in contemplation and that nice man who’s just out for a stroll sees a grumpy ass bitch who totally starts bumming him out and he thinks “goddam she’s killing my chill, the least I can do is try to get a smile on that face.”
I always oblige. It’s forced. It kind of hurts. And never comes without a little shame. Then I put my head down and get right back to business. And while I may actually get a little mental work done on these long walks to Wicker Park, could jot down a few lines in my notebook or even catch enough insight to spark a brand new plot for an essay, those Bitch Vibes never really shake. And I’m left sitting in a bar all night on a Saturday with not one gentleman able to come forward and say hello. Without even a single man in the group who did gather 'round my friend and me to work in numbers. Because she’s got the Come Hither Vibes. And I’m wondering what it’s going to take to get myself back into Welcome Zone I’m Here For You So You’re Fine I’ve Got a Happy Face Let's Talk Vibe. I’m wondering when I’ll get back to my standard way of life where instead of pleading for it a man will actually be inspired to say, “Goddam lady how'd you get such a beautiful Smile.”